Synapses

When did me and myself become a decrepit married couple?
When did we stop sharing our thoughts?
When did we stop seeing each other?
When did we stop looking?
When did we let ourselves go quiet?
When did we let the cold win out and render us immobile?
When did we let our thoughts dissolve into dotted lines, then into nothing at all?
When did we turn into twin ghosts, coexisting in one shadowy body?
When did you become satisfied with cheap comfort?
When did I become self-conscious?
When did you stop questioning my morals?
When did I stop writing things down?
When did you first forget to ask me?
When did I first forget to feel ashamed?
When did we start holding our breath?
Why didn't we think to stop?

(to get her)

Not sure if my sex life is
shutter(shudder)(shut her)island
or if this one is different.
At least this one's friendly.
Wants to know my favorite color.
Wants to know what i think about.
Wants to know all of my whys(wise)(y's).
Does not remember my sisters' names
but feels bad about it.
Does not mind when i say
nothing(no thing)(no, thing!).
Does not mind when i break down
sobbing because nothing(no thing)(no, thing!)
feels right/feels correctly.

My head is a hedge maze
and i cannot say whether i've seen these roots before
or if i've been lost so long
that everything has begun
to blend together(to gather)(to get her).

True love is a wedding dress with room for tentacles.